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Be Mine

People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.

~Rogers Hornsby

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and that’s certainly true for baseball fans who have to endure the long and lonely offseason that stretches through the cold, unending months of winter. But those dark days are officially behind us now: it’s P&C day, y’all.

It’s positively poetic that pitchers and catchers report on Valentine’s Day, because quite a few of the Ladies have ongoing torrid affairs with baseball. And let’s be honest- we’d much rather be treated to the boys of summer than yet another lame box of candy. So we’ve put together a few love letters to baseball – little Valentine’s treats for our favorite teams and players, and the game itself… all after the jump.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth of the lineup
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight of first place
For the ends of September and the playoffs.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
starting pitcher, by sun and stadium lights.
I love thee freely, as Reyes steals a base;
I love thee purely, as Beltran dives for a ball in centerfield.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs from 2000, 2006 & 2007, and with my faith in D-Wright.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost Mets, — I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! — and, if the baseball gods choose,
I shall but love thee better after a World Series win.

This is the size of my heart you are allowed to hold,
This is the size of my heart you are allowed to darken,
This is the size of my heart you are allowed to break.

This is the time I spend each day reading WHYGAVS,
This is the new management, same as the old management,
This is the game I will attend come April when you are in town.

This is the heart of distant memories,
This is the heart I carry for my oldest friend in the world, thousands of miles away,
This is the heart not for baseball, but for Britcher who still loves the Buccos.

This is the color of black.

Spring Training: My annual pilgrimage to Florida involves the four B’s: baseball, boys, booze & beach. If loving that is wrong, I don’t want to be right.

Josh Beckett: I don’t care if you reported this week with a spare tire, you get a free pass because you’re Commander Kickass of the Fuck Yeah Brigade.

Roger Clemens: You may be my childhood hero, but after your recent, how shall I say this delicately?… “troubles”, i think we should slow things down.

Toronto Blue Jays: I don’t love you like that, but I must confess to a strong like- you’re scrappy and cute and Canadian. Plus, Dustin McGowan’s sideburns are wicked awesome.

Joba Chamberlain: I really hated you after you “accidentally” (on purpose) threw balls at two Red Sox players’ heads, but then I read about your text messaging addiction and I’ve downgraded the hate to a cautious “let’s see”.

A.J. Pierzysnki: If only I could find a florist that would deliver more Michael Barrett punches to your face.

Cleveland Indians: Surely this should come as no surprise to you, Cleveland.

Baseball is grass, chalk, and dirt displayed the same yet differently
In every park that has ever heard the words play ball.
Baseball is a passion that bonds and divides all those who know it.
Baseball is a pair of hands stained with newsprint,
A set of eyes squinting to read a boxscore,
A brow creased in an attempt to recreate a three-hour game
From an inch square block of type.
Baseball is the hat I wear to mow the lawn.
Baseball is a simple game of catch
and the never-ending search for the perfect knuckleball.
Baseball is Willie vs Mickey, Gibson vs Koufax, and Buddy Biancalana vs the odds.
Baseball links Kansan and Missourian, American and Japanese,
But most of all father and son.
Baseball is the scent of spring,
The unmistakable sound of a double down the line,
And the face of a 10-year-old emerging from a pile of bodies
With a worthless yet priceless foul ball.
Baseball is a language of very simple words that tell unbelievably magic tales.
Baseball is three brothers in the same uniform on the same team for one brief summer
Captured forever in a black and white photo on a table by the couch.
Baseball is a glove on a shelf, oiled and tightly wrapped,
Slumbering through the stark winter months.
Baseball is a breast pocket bulging with a transistor radio.
Baseball is the reason there are transistor radios.
Baseball is a voice in a box describing men you’ve never met,
In a place you’ve never been,
Doing things you’ll never have the chance to do.
Baseball is a dream that you never really give up on.
Baseball is precious.
Baseball is timeless.
Baseball is forever.

The Ladies... like it when you

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About Texas Gal

Pitched four years for the Philadelphia Athletics, and then played shortstop for seven years for the Montreal Expos. Taught Rickey Henderson to steal a base. Taught Nolan Ryan to throw a punch. Taught Mickey Mantle to drink a beer. Threw one seven-hitter and seven no-hitters. Wonderboy was my creation, and first Jobu shrine was in my locker. Often called "the next Dustin Pedroia". Always wear high socks and eyeblack. Prefer to slide headfirst.

51 thoughts on “Be Mine”

I think I’ve been holding my breath for tomorrow morning since October 29. I am so sick and tired of the only baseball news being about Roger Clemens’s ass.

Although, come to think of it, a box of nice chocolates will excellently complement the joy of watching pitchers and catchers actually working out as a team (a whoosh through the air! A thwack into a glove! A crack off a bat!).

Some people celebrate today. Others mourn it because our favorite pitcher ran off with some hussy from Flushing. So then we spiral into a drunken stupor that leads us to hook up with some chunky Cuban guy who works hard and shows up every day.

Texy, your use of Simpsons valentines was good. Clare, your PowerPoint note device gone awry was also good. The judges were deadlocked, so you’ll both present collections, but only one of you will get to show at Bryant Park.

Ladies… this post makes me sad. I do not like baseball. Even a little bit. I feel that your coverage of baseball is disproportionate to most other sports, i.e college basketball. We are in the middle of a fabulous sports season here, why not show it a little love. Why pine for the boring and overly hot days of men sitting around scratching them selves while 2 or 3 people actually do something useful? Why not revel in the present state of young hot 18-24 year olds who are cute and athletic and sweaty and who wear uniforms that show off their excellent biceps. They run, they jump, they dunk, they pass. It requires athleticism AND hand-eye coordination. It’s amazing! You should watch!

TSW- I am impressed! Hoping for another one this year.
Holly- Thank you, but there is no need for a refund. I am happy with my subscription, just some minor suggestions which would infinitely increase my reading pleasure. And if we are going to celebrate baseball I would love some more pics of David Wright :)

I don’t know what this “Valentine’s Day” hearts and flowers nonsense that I’ve been seeing all day is. All I know is that I’ve been walking around wishing anyone and everyone I made eye contact with a Happy Pitchers and Catchers Report to Spring Training Day.

Ladies, ladies…. way to make the best out of the worst day of the year. Had it not been P&C day I wouldn’t have survived. Alas… baseball season starts again so all is well. Next big day: Opening Day. I’ll be at CBP toooo… woohoo! See half of you there, haha.

On another note, it’s nice to be facebook friends with Savory Joe Savery…. you can even see his pic-a-tures :)

Oh great. Another season of going to Craptacular Dodger Concrete Bunker Built on the Body of Caesar Chavez so we can get spit on and harassed for supporting a team that will most likely suffer another losing season.

I’m such a baseball junkie. While enduring this long off season I’ve been doing a lot of Googling in search of anything concerning my favorite hotties. I celebrated P&C Day rather than Valentine’s Day. And today I was celebrating too…all of the boys are in their respective training camps and I know it won’t be long now…